


Tip this scale

by mikhala_c



Category: Disney - Fandom, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Angels, M/M, Multi, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 03:30:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7997008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikhala_c/pseuds/mikhala_c
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU retelling of Mulan. Done for a Fic Challenge and republished here for your reading amusement.</p>
<p>The armies of heaven have been called to defeat Lilith and to stop the demon army from conquering the Earth. Every Vessel has been called to serve but Dean doesn't want to be some Angel's meat suit or let them use his family that way. If he can serve without letting that happen it will mean something, maybe humans will start being seen as equal.</p>
<p>He just has to survive the war with distinction.</p>
<p>Fortunately he has some help on his side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tip this scale

“Oh yeah! Point me at them! I’ll slay your foes and smite the wicked!” 

“Gabriel-”

“Woe be those who challenge our family! Woe!” Gabriel snapped his fingers and the shower of sparks rained down around him and the spirits of the ancient bloodlines. None of whom looked properly impressed by his power. The greatest of the spirits rolled his eyes and waved the sparks away. “Gabriel, we said we were going to send the greatest of the guardians to guide our family. You haven’t been a guardian since were assigned to Joan.”

Gabriel flinched as the Ancestor pointed over to the spirit of the young woman who clutched a spectral sword with a murderous glint in her eye and very singed hair. “Yeah, thanks for that.”

“Aww, come on.”

“No, we’re going to send a real guardian this time. Go wake Michael.”

Gabriel grumbled and snatched his trumpet off his pedestal before trudging out to the garden toward the sacred statue of St. Michael at the top of the central hill. “Come on, Michael, up and at them. You’ve got a Winchester to rescue, evil to vanquish.” Gabriel rapt the stone sandal clad foot with the end of his trumpet.

Nothing.

“Come on, get up! Get going! Fetch! Fetch Dean!” Gabriel made shooing motions in the direction the Winchester brothers had fled to answer the summons to go to war.

Still Nothing.

“What, did you suddenly go deaf? Get a move on!” Gabriel lifted his trumpet, angled the end of the horn right at the statue’s ear, and blew……

The head right off.

The rest of the statue crumbled down to nothing and Gabriel stared at the mess in a panic. He was so going to be demoted again for this. No statue; no summoning of Michael. No Michael; no Archangel to possess a Winchester and help turn the tide of the war like ever other time they’d been needed. No possession meant no way for Dean to fool the other angels already summoned and they’d kill the kid as a spy or traitor. “Oh man, oh man…”

“Lord Michael, have you awoken yet?”

Flinching at the sound of the Ancestor’s voice Gabriel snatched up the statue’s head and ran down the hill toward the bushes in front of the crypt’s entrance. Balancing it up on his hands he poked the head out of the grass and did his best impression of his brother’s bossy tone. “Yes! I, Michael, will go now and save mankind! And smite! Lots of smiting!”

“Thank you. Our family’s honor rests in your capable hands.”

As soon as the Ancestor’s spirit had turned away Gabriel dropped the head and sighed. “I’m going to have to bring back those idiot with a medal to make up for this.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The fire burst up around the rock as the winged shadow cast upon it raised it’s hands. “Did someone say miracle? Can I get an Amen!?!”

Dean backpedaled from the sight and thanks to the awkward balance of the armor and sword combination he was still trying to get to sit right, he went sprawling which made his giant oaf of a little brother trip and land on him. “Holy shit!”

“That’s close enough!”

Sam looks up at him with wide eyes, sure the angels have caught them no doubt, and Dean tries to draw the blade from his scabbard to defend them both for what little good it would do. They’re mulch now that they’ve tried to avoid the ritual of incarnation. “Now, that’s no way to treat your savior. I’ve come to help you. You want save your father from being used as a vessel but you don’t want to sacrifice your freedom? If you get caught the penalty is death!”

Dean can’t help it, something about the theatrics and the light show just gets to him. He’s spent his whole life being treated as a second class citizen, told his only value is in the fact he could be a vessel for an angel and now that he’s faced with one all he can see is an over important sense of self. He snickers.

“Did you? Did you just laugh at me, mortal?”

Sam is scrambling off Dean now and getting to his knees. “No! He didn’t. He was choking, I had an elbow in his gut.”

The shadow’s wings puff out before settling down. “Alright then. I’ve been sent by your ancestors to help you. I can make you the hero you need to be.”

“Who are you?” From the stricken look on Sam’s face one would think Dean had committed an atrocity by asking who was talking to them.

“Who am I? Who. Am. I? I am the powerful, the pleasurable, the indestructible Gabriel!” Apparently the speaker had decided that introductions where an excellent time for actually showing themselves but when the angel manifested Dean was less than impressed. The tiny figure in the long robe perched on top of the waist high rock, its little wings puffed out around it, was about the size of a small song bird. “My ancestors sent me a Barbie?” Dean reached out to prod one of the wings with a finger tip and got a tiny sword to the knuckle for his trouble.

“I’m travel sized for your convenience and if you try that again you’ll be learning to eat with the other hand, smart ass.” After that Dean had to admit he kinda liked the little spitfire.

Until he turned Sam into a horse.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean tried not to shiver at the feeling of the tiny hands curled into the hair on the back of his neck, but it was hard, especially when the bird like wings fluttered and scraped the back of his neck. Gabriel had to be close for the illusion to work and for their first entrance into the camp they’d agreed the stronger the image the better. Once the angels assumed Dean to be one of them they could stop trying so hard.

First impression were everything. 

Sam snorted, a mix of frustration and nerves, and Dean ran a soothing hand over curve of his shoulder. If his life was weird at the moment, Sam’s had to be worse. Gabriel had pointed out that on he mortal plane every angel had a steed that would obey them to the exclusion of all others. It wasn’t something they could fake with an animal so the tiny angel had volunteered Sam who had agreed but probably been envisioning the shape of a majestic Arabian stallion Pegasus crossbreed.

Not a plump, shaggy Clydesdale.

Dean didn’t really see the problem, his brother was always huge, now he was just freakishly so. From the looks the angel’s were giving him at least he didn’t have to worry about anyone bothering Sam.

Now him on the other hand…

Gabriel’s wings fluffed out and spasmed in response to Dean’s nervous shrug of his shoulders and the illusionary ones at his back mimicked the move, flaring out and slapping both Sam and some stranger in the face. Sam snorted in disgust again, clearly use to the abuse, but the stranger snarled. “Watch it!”

Dean barely parted his lips to respond when Gabriel barked out a retort of his own. “You watch it, princess.” Dean caught Sam’s horsy wince out of the corner of his eye just as a meaty hand slammed down on his shoulder like the crack of a bat. The fancy silver armor he’d buckled on was the only thing that kept his collar bone from breaking with the impact and he was dizzy with the pain when he was wrenched around to face the person he’d hit. Whoever the angel was he was wearing the face of a very angry black man and about to punch Dean in the mouth.

He can hear Gabriel’s muttered “Crap!” and just ducks and covers his head. He knows he’s never seen and angel do anything like that, but a punch to the face and he won’t have to worry about embarrassing the family, his brains would be all over Sam’s hide. He can feel the air displace as the fist goes right over his head and the muffled snap of tiny fingers triggers some sort of chain reaction.

The next thing Dean knows the camp is in utter chaos as angels are punching and slapping each other with their wings while he and Sam are trying to keep out of the way.

Suddenly the doors to the largest of the buildings in the camp blew open and a man stalked out. Eyes blazing and wings spread wide. “What is going on here?” Dean could hear the low growl of the angel’s words all the way across the open common area over all the commotion but the man hadn’t even raised his voice. Everyone else froze for a moment before snapping to attention. The angel surveyed them all with sharp blue eyes and folded his dark wings back down against his back. “Who started this?”

When every finger in the camp pointed at Dean he didn’t need Gabriel’s help getting into trouble. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. Ass hats.”

He straightened up from his crouch only to nearly bounce off the blue eyed angel as he turned. The fake wings flailed out to try and help him keep his balance but only threw him further off until a hand fisted on the collar of his breastplate and pulled him back to a steady footing. “What’s your name, soldier?” The tone was clipped but the angel’s gaze was focused on the gold and brown flecked wings flapping spastically behind Dean’s shoulders. “Uhm……”

Gabriel was muttering to himself and pulling randomly on Dean’s hair where he hid. “Crap, wrong wing color. Stupid, stupid. Uriel?”

“His name is Uriel.” Dean hissed under his breath as he rolled his eyes toward the man who’d tried to punch him, he’d heard one of the other angel’s address him during the fray. The blue eyes narrow and shift back toward Dean’s face and all he can think is ‘wow, he’s kinda pretty..’ which will do nothing to keep any of them alive. 

“I am aware of who he is and I didn’t ask for his name. I asked for yours.”

“Diniel” Comes the helpful muttering from his back. “Wait, he’s such a little runt..” Dean slaps his hand against the back of his neck hard to cut off the rant and flashes his best winning smile at the angel who looks like he is contemplating drop kicking him back where ever he came from. “Diniel.”

“You’re one of Michael’s?” There’s barely a question there but Dean just nods and brushes the dirt off his hands as another angel, in the same sort of ridiculous robe get up as Gabriel comes out of the building to stand behind the blue eyed angel. His voice has the low rumble of thunder and the way he sneers has Dean setting his jaw against saying something snide. “I wasn’t aware Michael had anyone to spare, Castiel.” The blue eyed angel gives Dean one more brief once over before letting go off his breastplate and stepping back. “Neither was I.” 

Dean gives them both a tight smile and start to step back. He can see Uriel flex his fingers out of the corner of his eye and his leg snags on something that has him pitching backward to land on his back in a sprawl of feathers and funny angles on his wings that have ever other angel wincing and Gabriel making distress squeaks where he’s pined between Dean and his armor. With a groan of pain he reached out to grab hold of the helpful length of mane Sam lowers down toward him and tries to not die of embarrassment as he hears the thundering angel mutter to the other one, “Nevermind, I can see why this one was sent here, he’s a complete idiot” before turning and walking back into the building.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean was ready to die now.

He thought it was going to be a short simple con, at least that was the pitch Gabriel had sold, walk in and pretend o be part of the team and keep out of the line of fire while they smote the demon army. Apparently angels had to train to use their human vessels appropriately. Most of the ones in the camp were either first timers to earth or hadn’t set foot on it since the last time it flooded. The rising of Lilith and her children was a big to do and Heaven had sent out a huge call to arms that everyone had answered, not just the angels that where normally walking around lording over the Earth. 

On the plus side this meant Dean wasn’t the only awkward one stumbling around on his own two armored feet, but he was the worst. On the negative it meant that they were going through a bunch of skill building exercises that even Gabriel had no idea how to fake so Dean got to be the absolute worst angel in the garrison. It didn’t help that his first impression had won him a few not so nice companions. Uriel seemed to live to try and make his day miserable and the two angels with him didn’t help. Well Anna wasn’t so bad, just distant and not bothering to stop the other two. Balthazar was a pain in the ass too, but in the sneaky snide way that Dean would love to trade in for another Uriel. 

At least he was honest in his face punching jerkdom.

Speaking of face punching, Dean winced and pressed lightly at the purple mass that was his left cheekbone and sighed. Everything ached and this was just the icing on the cake. Gabriel patted the back of his neck soothingly as Sam lipped at his hair. “Give it a minute and I’ll make it go away, you’re doing great, kiddo.” 

“Great? I’m getting my ass handed to me daily. Castiel’s already told me to get out and go home. I think if I’m not out of here by dawn he’ll strap me to Sam’s saddle himself.”

“I know, I know. We’ll think of something.” Dean really wanted to believe the angel but even he sounded nervous. Dean flopped down on the rickety bench in the middle of the empty common ground. Kicking his feet out he let his gaze wander over to the test in the middle of the practice yard. It was the big to do in the camp and nobody, not even oh so cool Uriel and his stooges, had been able to beat it. Not that Dean blamed them, he’d seen the damage the holy oil fire had done to the vessels of the angel’s who’d tried. They’d been out of commission for a day each after bungling their attempts and Dean wasn’t eager to try having stood next to the fire and felt the heat.

He wasn’t sure Gabriel could fix him if he got singed.

That didn’t stop him from looking at the test now. All an angel had to do was get the vase sitting on the cute little table and hand it to Castiel with only their wits and their angelic blade as tools. The kicker was the two rings of flaming holy oil around the set up. Dean had watched angels try and fly over, dig their way under, and even make their blade longer and try to snag the vase off the table with the reshaped tool. He’d thought that try to be particularly ingenious, Balthazar had cleverness going for him in spades, but the vase was weighed down with even more oil and if it hadn’t been for Anna counter balancing him the idea would have ended with him taking a belly flop into the fire.

Dean pulled the blade Gabriel had crafted for him from his belt. He was beginning to think there was something wrong mentally with his so called guardian because the midget had given him the goofiest set of huge flailing wings, damn near the biggest in the camp that big wig Raphael included, but he had one of the smallest swords.

More a knife really.

He was starting to get a complex.

Gabriel fluttered back and forth across his field of vision as the little guardian tried to sooth the aches and mend the armor the way a real angel would. Dean could tell this whole thing was just as taxing on Gabriel as it was on him if only in a different way. By the time he could move his face without pain Gabriel had collapsed on the bench next to him with a sigh. “Give me a minute to catch my breath and I’ll finish you up, Kiddo.”

Dean grunted his acknowledgement and slowly start to toss the angelic knife, it really wasn’t a sword no matter what Gabriel claimed, end over end to juggle it one handed. He wasn’t untrained in the martial skills but even a lifetime of hunting and training with his father and Sam couldn’t prepare him to keep up with the angels. That said there wasn’t any reason to let his skills get rusty.

“Don’t let anyone catch you doing that.” Gabriel’s voice was soft, almost muffled, by his slouch.

“Why not?”

“An angel’s blade is sacred, a part of them. You wouldn’t throw your arm around would you?”

“I also wouldn’t stab some one with my arm. Your argument has flaws.”

Gabriel huffed and grumbled to himself. “Whatever. Just be careful with it. You don’t want to risk losing it, or damaging it, okay? A real angel wouldn’t at least.”

Dean caught the blade by the handle and looked at it carefully, trying to imagine being that attached to a weapon and how that would effect his behavior on and off the field. Almost unbidden his eyes rose from the length of metal to the vase sitting innocently across the yard. “Why not?”

“What?”

“Why not risk it?”

Gabriel’s wings flared out and he leapt to his feet. “Aren’t you listening to me? Even a human wouldn’t risk being limbless for the rest of their life if they can avoid it. Angel’s live much longer.”

Now that the idea had sunk in Dean couldn’t let it go. He got to his feet and headed toward the fiery rings. “And doesn’t that make you all more afraid of pain and loss? No end in sight, so you angels have to be so cautious. Always planning for the next twenty fights down the road and never betting it all on one big win. No risk no reward, right?” Dean stopped at the edge of the ring and glanced back at the little angel to find Gabriel watching him warily. “Dean-o, where’s your little monkey mind going here?”

“Castiel just wants the vase right? That’s the mission. Nobody ever said we had to muscle our way past this fire. I mean, why risk my neck when my arm will do right?” With that, and before he could think better of it, Dean drew his arm back and hurled the knife at the table. The ring of oil flared brighter as the blade cut through the air and Dean had to throw up his hands to shield his eyes.

He missed seeing the knife embed itself in the wood and send the table crashing over, spilling the vase and its contents to the ground. The hiss of the flames and the rising smoke tickled his nose and made his eyes water as he backed up to make his way around the ring to check his success. “Did it work?”

“Did it work?” Gabriel mimicked him. “Didn’t bother checking that the idea was sound before hand. I used a chunk of your soul to make that blade you know!” Dean stopped dead and turned to glare at the guardian. Sam was making very angry horse noises at Gabriel as well. “Um, no, I didn’t know that. Maybe you should mention that sort of thing. In fact, any point you have the need or desire to meddle with my soul let me know first.”

“Meh.”

Dean ground his teeth together for a moment as he stared down the angel, which considering how small his beady eyes were it was a feat. He didn’t think he was going to win a stare down with an immortal being.

He was just stalling to allow Sam to sneak up and snag one of the flapping wings with his teeth.

Dean turned his back on he sputtering and yowling angel and continued his trek around the ring. The vase lay just inside the charred remains of the ring. Either it wasn’t more holy oil inside of it or the sudden excess had smothered the flames on that side. It was easy enough to step in and pick it up while prying his knife out of the table.

Sam’s malicious sounds of joy as he chased Gabriel around, snapping his blunt teeth at feathers and robes alike was enough of a disturbance to rouse the angels resting in their tents. Sam barely managed to get himself into some semblance of order by the time Castiel threw open the flap of his tent and stepped out. The blue eyed commander took in the scene with a slow sweep of his gaze as the rest of the garrison spilled out into the yard to catch sight of Dean, his steed, and the smoldering circle.

Dean managed a small, nervous grin and held up the vase. “Its okay if there are a few dents right?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“If you get caught and all my-er..our hard work gets undone..” Gabriel’s warning tone, Dean had come to notice was very much like the whining one Sam got sometimes when he was certain that everything was going to be ruined thanks to Dean.

So he responded to it in kind.

“Look dude, I’m real thrilled that you can just snap your fingers and I’m clean but I just can’t trust magic for everything. I’ve been in the same clothes for three months now and I’m getting tired of it. Just one bath, man.”

“Look, you really can’t get any cleaner with water than with Grace okay.”

“For the sake of our friendship and Sam’s girly feelings I’m going to pretend that it didn’t just sound like you molest me every time you clean my clothes. If you are so concerned you can go stand watch.” Gabriel threw a final glare his way before flying off into the reeds with Sam following after. The horse glare was quite impressive but Dean wasn’t fooled; Sam might still be pissed with his transformation but he’s caught his brother hamming it up for Gabriel every time the angel managed to conjure up and apple or sugar cube for him.

Then again, it might just be a sign his brain is switching over to horse mode more often rather than him having a crush. 

Once he was assured of his privacy Dean finished shucking off the last of his armor and clothing. The feel of air on his skin was an indulgence after so long and it was all he could do to tear himself away from that pleasure to make for the water. Once he adjusted to the chill of the water Dean waded out to chest deep and enjoyed the way the weight was eased off of him by the water as his skin slowly stretched from the imprints the armor left on it.

“Diniel? Diniel, are you well?” Anna’s voice echoed across the water and Dean had to muffle a string curse at the sight of the other angel standing on the shore holding his breastplate. He might have ignored her in hope that she’d wander off but she actually looked concerned, at least from what he could tell in the half light of the moon. “I’m fine Anna, thanks.”

“What are you doing?” The sudden proximity of the voice made Dean jump and then sink further down into the water until he was chin deep as he turned to glare at Uriel perched on the rock behind him like an overly large bird with his dark wings spread wide behind him. Looking at the nearly black feathers Dean could appreciate another way he stuck out like a sore thumb, every other angel in the Garrison had dark tones to their feathers from Anna’s violet and Uriel’s charcoal grey, to Castiel’s silver tipped black.

Dean waded back away from Uriel’s looming form and didn’t bother to keep the snap out of his tone. “I’m swimming.”

“Why? Did you drop something?” Balthazar was looking at the water with mild interest where he stood next to Anna.

“We could help you look.” Dean flashed a shocked look back over his shoulder at Uriel as he debated on how to get out of the water without any of the trio seeing his lack of wings since Gabriel’s illusions were sunk into the armor sitting at Anna’s feet. “I didn’t drop anything and why, if I had, would you three want to help me?”

It was Balthazar who spread his hands in a placating gesture and spoke up. “We know that we haven’t treated you well. Things got off to a poor start. Uriel has quite the temper and you are very..well..” The normally glib angel seemed to stall there on how best to describe Dean, or Diniel. Anna and Uriel attempted to help.

“Fragile.”

“Strange.”

“Different. Very different. Not that we don’t appreciate your differences now, our Father made you with an obvious intent. It just gets hard to see on first meeting you, Diniel.”

“You’re too small to go into battle.” Uriel sounded almost petulant as he hunched on the rock trailing his fingers in the water. It said something about Dean’s control that he didn’t flip the angel off. “Right, well. I’m willing to let bygones be bygones and start fresh in the morning so just be about your way.” It seemed kind of ridiculous to flap his hands at the trio of angels like he was trying to shoo birds but he gave it a try anyway.

Not that they would be deterred. If he’d learned anything about angels in his time at the camp it was that once something had their attention they’d worry at it until they figured it out or forced it to make sense to them. Anna settled down on her haunches and stuck her fingers into the water while Balthazar ignored Dean entirely to pick through the pile of his clothing as if he’d never seen it in such a state, or even off a body. “If you aren’t looking for something lost then why are you in the water?” It is only innocent curiosity in Anna’s tone but Dean lets out a frustrated sigh.  
“I’m swimming.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to. I’m tired of wearing that armor all the time and the water feels good on my skin.” Dean can feel all three of the angels staring at him and he pointedly doesn’t look at any of them as he treads the cool water having maneuvered so far away from the shore and Uriel’s rock that he can no longer touch the ground. The silence drags on for a minute or two before the sound of rustling fabric disturbs it. When he finally risks a glance at the angels he finds them all in various states of undress. “What are you three doing?”

“Swimming.” Came the reply in unison.

“Why?”

Uriel gives him a superior glare as he works the belt lose from his armor. “We don’t see the appeal, but since you enjoy it so, there must be a reason to try it.”

Dean really wished he could come up with a good idea to talk the trio out of it. Casting around for some way out he caught sight of Gabriel hovering in the reeds and glaring at him with an ‘I told you so expression’. Dean flashed the little guardian a faint smile and helpless shrug, it wasn’t like he was planning for this to happen. Gabriel doesn’t respond and Dean’s left to his own devices as the trio of angels finally strip off and climb into the water with him.

He spends the next five minutes dodging the long slow brush of wings under the water and the angels’ attempts to get close to him. He thinks he’s home free when Uriel settles back against the rock he’d perched on and starts to pick at Anna’s wings. Balthazar is hanging close nearby and Dean figures the straight shot to the shoreline won’t get any clearer, he just needs a way to get out of the water without them noticing his lack of extra appendages.

He makes his break only to have Anna call him up short. “Diniel? Come over here and I’ll groom your wings.”

“Um..no, that’s okay. I need to get out anyway.” Anna looked crestfallen at being turned down. The dismissal had apparently made Balthazar curious and he leaned away from the rock to watch Dean heading toward the shore. “Why? It is hours until dawn. If you prefer I could groom you. I’ve been told I have deft fingers.”

If he hadn’t been sure angels didn’t work like that Dean would have sworn Balthazar had just made a pass at him. Anna reached over to slap the other angel’s shoulder and mutter something that had him laughing and suddenly Dean wasn’t so sure of that particular assumption. Thankfully he caught sight of Sam’s head poking up over the reeds.

It was time to run for it.

“Maybe another time. I’m just going to head back to my tent for a while and- Look at that!” The trio turned to look in the direction he pointed and Dean bolted from the water as Sam dashed down from the shore to block him from view with his massive frame. Dean scrambled to gather up his clothes as his toes sank into the mud.

“Look at what, Diniel?”

“My mistake, just the moon. You all have fun!” He yelled over his shoulder as he sank into the shelter of the reeds. Gabriel’s in his face the moment they are out of sight. “I can’t believe you! That was so close and all for your silly human bath.”

Dean huffs and yanks his tunic on over his head. He’s incredibly grateful he did so when he staggers out of the reeds and crashes in Castiel. The angel reaches out to steady him before the weight of the armor in his arms drags him all the way to the ground. There is a moment of panic before Dean hears the snap of tiny fingers and feels the shifting feathers as his false wings flail out in response to his nerves.

He tries to not come off as too impressed as his commander pulls him back onto his feet as if his weight and the eighty pounds of armor in his arms was nothing. Once he’s steady Castiel shifts his attention down to take in his appearance and Dean is very grateful that the tunic runs long. “What are you doing?” The question comes with a level of mild interest Dean’s never actually heard in the commander’s voice before. It is hard to fight the awkward flush creeping along his cheeks when he notices that the angel’s attention is focused almost completely on his bare feet and Castiel still hasn’t let go of his arm.

“Swimming. I was swimming and now I’m going back to my tent.”

“Swimming?” Blue eyes glanced up with the question as if to gauge some secret. Dean gave up resisting the urge and rolled his eyes, the angels where tiring with their superiority complex and their lack of understanding of basic concepts. “Yes, swimming. You get in the water and paddle around. It feels good.”

Castiel pinned him with a look that could freeze blood and it made Dean’s chest do an awkward little flip. “I am very aware of what swimming is, Diniel. I am curious as to why you were doing it in the nude.”

“I don’t have any other clothes and I didn’t want mine wet.” It did occur to him until the words were out of his mouth that his concern was not one an angel would have. He meet Castiel’s gaze and tried to not blink as he waited to see if there was going to be an opportunity to bluff his way out of this and make for his tent. He didn’t expect Castiel to let go of his arm and run a hand over the curve of the armor piled against his chest, eyes breaking contact to trace the movement. “Michael gave you this armor to be used, Diniel. To protect your vessel at all times, he would not want for either of you to be injured because you valued his gift more highly.”

“Either of us?”

Castiel drew his hand back from the armor and lifted his eyes to Dean’s once more. It made him realize how close they were and the fact that every time the angel caught his eye it seemed like he was leaning in unconsciously closer still. “You must take care of your vessel, that human trusts you to use the time he shares with you to do good on earth and shepherd his fellow man. Vessels may often die during our tasks but we can not treat that as the expected outcome.”

“You really care? About humans?” Dean tacked the amendment on as an after thought to drowned out the yearning that had crept into his voice. He could remember his mother telling him about angels looking out for him. That they were good and loving and holy but he grew up in a world where they were powerful and feared. A human couldn’t make in the world, couldn’t be valued for themselves unless it was to be tied to an angel, the thought that one of them really cared was too unique to pass by. 

“Our Father commanded we love them as he did. How can I claim to do so if I give anything less but everything I am to their care and protection. It is a simple thing, Diniel.”

Dean has to laugh at that, at the claim that selflessness could be a simple thing, and the look Castiel gives him is confused and uncertain. He flashes the angel a grin. “You are something else, Cas, but it is getting late and I need to get to my tent.” He expects to be reprimanded for being so informal but his commander just tilts his head and regards him for a moment before stepping aside. 

“To your rest then, Diniel.” Dean’s past him and well into the line of tents when he realizes that Castiel hadn’t corrected his shortening his name. The thought has him grinning as he ducks into his tent and comes eye to tiny eye with Gabriel. 

“I saw that.”

Dean stares at the little guardian’s crossed arms and puffed out feathers. “Saw what? We were just talking.” 

Gabriel just arches a brow and sniffs. “Uh-huh, you say ‘just talking’ but your pinions were saying something else entirely.”

“Look Gabriel, you know I don’t have any control over-”

“Bull. You get in your bed, young man and no more cow eyes at your commanding officer.”

“I wasn’t-”

Gabriel’s huff cuts him off and Dean gives up the fight. He’d rather be asleep anyway.

He ends up sleeping past the call to assemble and the arrival of their marching orders. Luckily for him his three new ‘friends’ are more than happy to roust him out and inform him of the good news.

Castiel’s garrison is marching to war.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean thinks deep down the carnage bothers him more than it does the angels around him. The long ashen patterns of wings are few and far between compared to the spill of crimson on the snow. The vessels of angel and demon both lie dead across the battlefield the village the local garrison angels were meant to protect was now a smoking ruin. More humans died here than the warring factions.

The keening wail cuts through the air and something about the sound chills Dean deeper than the magic Gabriel’s layer him with to fight the cold can keep out. He turns to see Anna kneeling in the doorway of one of the ruined buildings, her wings splayed out behind her as she rocks back and forth hugging her arms to herself. Its not her making the grief stricken sound, Uriel is, head thrown back and wings arched high above both him and Anna. Dean’s heading toward them to find out what’s going on when Balthazar steps in his way. “Don’t. They found the younglings, there is no need to spread the grief.” The angel’s hands are firm but gentle as they turn him around and shove him back toward the cluster of the garrison.

“Spread the grief? They act like its contagious.”

“To angels it is, all emotions are and they’re dangerous.” Gabriel’s comment is soft, sad in a way he’d never heard from the little guardian, and has him tilting his head so he can look at his friend where he’s tucked in Dean’s cloak. “They were just trying to protect you, or Diniel at least, so don’t be too insulted. Nothing I can do makes you seem anything more than a very, very young angel. You’re so open Balthazar must have thought a concept like grief or rage would cripple you, or make you fall.” Dean can only stare at the smaller angel as Uriel’s keening rings in his ears and the rest of the garrison pointed look everywhere but at the two angels in the doorway. 

Gabriel’s little sparrow sized wings puff up and flare around him before he hops up into the air. “I’m going to go sit with Sam, don’t do anything stupid.” Dean can’t manage to get a word of protest out, he knows the look on Gabriel’s face, seen what it looks like to want to be anywhere else and lets him go. Dean doesn’t really know what to do with himself, there’s nothing to fight and he can’t really try and comfort his friends, so he leaves the mass of angels and picks his way through the village’s remains looking for clues to the demons’ next move.

He was shocked to find Castiel deep in the village, posed a top a hill gazing out into the valley beyond. Dean paused at the entrance to the batter street he’d come from wondering if he should back down the way he came before his commander noticed him. Castiel didn’t give any outward indication that he’d heard Dean’s approach but when he spoke, Dean figured it wasn’t intended to be just spoken to the air. “I had wondered why the town had been sacked. The First Garrison should have met the demon forces head on.”

Dean hesitated just for a moment before answering, unsure as to what would be expected of Diniel the good little angel. “I’m sure there was a good reason for them to be delayed.”

Castiel’s dark wings drooped slowly but he didn’t turn from his position, only extended an arm to show the helmet held in his hand. The helm had a golden hue and the etching along the side was different from their own garrison. “The First were not delayed, Diniel, and they will be no further help in this war.”

“Cas..”  
The angel’s wings twitched ever so slightly before lifting up to their natural arch. “Go back and tell the rest of the garrison to be ready to ride on, we must catch Lilith’s army before they reach the golden city. The Prophet must be protected at all costs.”

Dean snapped to attention at the order. “Yes, sir. ” Dean caught sight of Castiel’s wings sagging to the ground in despair as he turned to leave but he made no sign of it. He’d never seen their commander falter and as far as he was concerned a little show of grief and fear wasn’t going to change that fact.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The spell sent out a shockwave of power that ripped through the lines of angels and Dean knew how Lilith and her troops had won, she’d bound the angels to their mortal vessels. Robbed them of their Grace and then the Demons had simply overwhelmed them just like they were planning to now. She’d kill Castiel’s garrison along with Raphael, the arrogant jerk, and there’d be nothing between her and the Prophet. Nothing between her and the secret to Lucifer’s cage.

And only Sam and Dean’s little half brother to be Michael’s vessel for the final showdown, and because every other suitable vessel for any angel was either dead or too young, the Archangel would be facing his brother and the forces of Hell alone.

The garrison had been caught marching across the low snow valley between the peaks that guarded the capital city. It was a clear shot to the Prophet’s palace which made sense for them to make it the last line of defense, unfortunately the ambush was already lain out. They’d just hit the midpoint of the hillside when the scouts caught sight of the first of the demons on the rise of the hill. The warning had barely left their lips when the horde swarmed over the crest. After that had come the spell.

Magic had never been something Dean had any interest in but even he could identify the not quite right feeling in the wake of the initial shockwave. There was a moment of panic in the garrison before Castiel’s voice had rung out demanding the attention due to him. “Form ranks! We stop them from reaching the city.” The command spurned the garrison into action. Bows drawn and swords at the ready the angels prepared to meet the enemy. There are too many of them and too few angels, Dean glanced around looking for options, for opportunities to change the odds, and he pauses of the sight of the mountain curving high above them heavy with snow.

Madness, absolute madness.

“Gabriel, exactly how much water can a guardian angel bless at a time.”

“As much as is right there, why?”

“As much as a mountain side worth?” Gabriel follows his line of sight to the fragile ledges holding the snow above the valley and starts to shake his little head fervently.

“Bad plan, Dean, no way for the garrison to get out of the avalanche’s path in time.”

“The angels will be alright and saving those people, saving the world, that’s worth it. Isn’t it?”

“Yes, but..”

Dean shook his head and snatched up the discarded bow at his feet, drawing an arrow from the quiver slung over his shoulder he took aim. “Hop on and hold tight.” Gabriel grumbled as he obeyed, the moment he touched the arrow the wood glowed as the Grace crafted inside of it recognized its maker. Dean could see the movement out of the corner of his eye as one of the demons drew near but he didn’t dare look away from his task. If he could get Gabriel up to the ledge, or at least far enough out of the spell’s range, then maybe the little guardian could make their plan work. If not then Dean had at least saved someone from the demons. “Please, please, make this right.”

The arrow flared white and left a silver streak in the air as it was loosed.

Dean turned to face the demon approaching him and found himself staring at the form of a beautiful blonde woman in a white satin gown, her attention focused on the arrow’s flight. Dean didn’t care for the look of the rusty straight razor clutched in her blood slick hand. He never sees the arrow hit but he can feel the low rumble in the soles of his feet as the snow starts to come down. The demon whirled around to glare at him and Dean knows who’s looking out at him from behind those eyes; Lilith. She slashed at him as he tried to scramble away from the fight he couldn’t win. He felt the bite of metal along the seam of his breastplate but Lilith herself had started to turn and run from the field.

Dean was scrabbling for cover when Sam appeared in front of him. His fingers were numb as he hauled himself up into the saddle.

The snow hit as Sam bolted for the rocky out cropping the remainder of the garrison had sought shelter behind.................

................................White.

Cold and pure the white burned in the wound and along Dean’s all too human joints. He could only guess how terrible it was for Sam but over and over again his brother fought their way to the surface of the snow even as they were pushed farther and farther from the safety of the rocks. Sam fought and kicked as Dean clung to the saddle and forced himself to breath around the pain.

The angels of the garrison called out to them and Sam, probably spurned on by the sound so close, forced them up and against the flow of snow toward the rocks. They were close enough to touch the shade when a gleam of silver caught Dean’s eye. 

Castiel, bruised and bloody, being carried along the snow drift toward the edge of the hill and on to the steep drop below. He couldn’t let that happen, couldn’t turn his back when they could save someone. Dean mumbled his apology to Sam from between blue lips and pulled on the reins to turn them toward the injured angel. It said the world of Sam that he didn’t fight the pull, just turned with it and plunged back into the snow after the still figure. They moved faster with the flow, pulled along side Castiel in moments and Dean wrapped his hands around one outstretched arm and pulled the angel toward them and over the saddle. They’d saved Castiel but the ledge was drawing closer with every breath, Sam was struggling with the extra weight as he fought against the flow.

Dean let his head hang forward as the fact that his efforts had doomed Sam as well when an arrow hit the snow next to them.

An arrow with a length of rope attached to the end.

Dean snatched it up and worked as quickly as he could to hook the rope to Sam’s saddle. The final knot tightened just as the rope went taut. They balanced for what seemed like an endless moment at the edge of the drop before they began to inch their way back toward safety with the steady tug of the rope. Dean lost track of time as they moved along, the world would go grey as they made sudden jerks and he was too preoccupied with keeping Castiel’s head up out of the snow. He wasn’t sure an angel could smother but he didn’t want to risk it.

Sam let out a low soft whine as his hooves touched solid ground. There were dozens of hands to help take Castiel down from the addle and just as many to help Dean. He was resting in the collective warmth of the trio when Castiel’s eyes opened. Balthazar ruffled Dean’s hair as he spoke. “You had me worried. I had almost thought you weren’t going to reach for the arrow.”

Dean’s focus was mostly on Castiel as he stood but he spared Balthazar the smile he deserved for his effort. “Thank you, you saved us.”

Anna giggled and pried the smug angel off Dean. “He may have shot the arrow but I’m the one who remembered to hold the end of the rope and it was mostly due to Uriel that we had the muscle needed to pull you back, don’t let him get too proud.”

Castiel stopped in Dean’s field of vision just as it started to turn grey again. “Diniel, I…Diniel?” Dean moved his hand from were it pressed against the ache in his side, hoped to steady himself against Castiel’s armor, but left a smear of red across the silver metal as he hit the ground.

“Diniel! Hold on…just hold on…”

When he next woke up it was inside a hastily put up tent under the reproachful gaze of the garrison healer Raphael.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Dean stayed on his knees where Raphael had thrown him and not just because his side ached, he didn’t have the strength to stand in the face of Castiel’s shock and horror. The angel, his commander, looked so wounded and betrayed Dean wished the ground would just swallow him whole. Raphael stood at Castiel’s shoulder and held out the sword for him to take. “I did it for my father and my family, Castiel.” It wasn’t an apology, but it was all he could offer as the cold air against his naked chest made him shake and shiver.

There was a moment’s hesitance before Castiel’s curled his hand around the hilt and stepped toward him. It eased some of the pain when Uriel, Anna, and Balthazar had to be held back by the rest of the garrison on Raphael’s orders, he trusted one of them would look after Sam if Gabriel couldn’t. His brother was thrashing and screaming his fury as two of the stronger angels held his reins with their unearthly strength. Castiel’s shadow loomed over him and Dean bent his head forward to make the strike easier, he didn’t want to cause Castiel anymore pain by making the job difficult on him, one easy stroke and he could go home and forget about the human that had tricked him, hurt him, and possibly loved him. Not that the angel had ever heard the last from Dean’s lips.

The sword landed with a dull clank on the ground in front of Dean’s face but he couldn’t make himself look up. “A life for a life. My debt is repaid. Move out.”

Dean could hear Raphael clear his throat but Castiel’s voice rose over it. “I said move out!” The angels scrambled to obey and as soon as Sam was freed he bolted to Dean’s side, settling in to loom protectively over him. Uriel stopped by in the commotion of packing up and dropped a bag of supplies down next to where Dean huddled in the snow. Dean doesn’t risk a glance up at the angel’s face, doesn’t want to see disappointment or pity on a face he’d thought of as a friend. In the quiet Gabriel fluttered down to rest on his knee and replace the piece of soul he took for Dean’s knife back where it belonged, it is not as if Dean was going to be needing a mock angelic blade anymore.

It wasn’t long before only Gabriel and Sam are in the valley with him.

Only the three of them, as they picked their way slowly across the snowy hills toward home, saw the first of the demons break free from the snow drift; Lilith in all her dread glory. Dean stared open mouthed as she pried herself from the snow, skin smoldering where it touched, to stare down at the valley far below and the sprawl of the sacred city. The snow rippled as more hands breached the surface. “We have to do something.” Dean breathed the words out slowly, afraid to draw attention to them, and earned a look of horror from both Sam and Gabriel in return. “Dean, kiddo, those demons just popped up from a holy water bath like a bunch of daisies. There isn’t anything we can do.”

“We’ve got to warn Cas. Come on.” If Sam runs hard they just might make it to the city before the demons can rally an assault. Something told him this war wasn’t going to end until Lilith was well and truly dead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean should probably have felt grateful he hadn’t been arrested or killed yet but he’s gotten frustrated that no one is listening to him. Every guard or random angel he tried to talk to brushed him off. He didn’t have any options left, and it was a mad idea anyway, so he clambered onto Sam’s saddle and forced his way through the crowd and right into the path of the parade. Castiel’s white steed reared and pawed the air at being cut off and the look the commander shot him was cold. “You should not be here-”

“Lilith survived!” Dean cut him off before Castiel could get wrapped up in the rules and regulations. The angel’s eyes widened momentarily but then he set his jaw and urged his steed around the spot Sam was standing.

“That is unlikely and even if she did one demon is not enough to threaten the realms.”

“Even one demon is a demon too many. You told us that and she has five more.” Dean was forced to move Sam forward to keep up with Castiel as they spoke. He could tell the angel was already shutting him out by the way his wings folded against his back.

“Do you have proof?” 

“No. You believed every stupid thing that came out of Diniel’s mouth, why am I any different?”

“You lied to me.”

“If I had told the truth you would have killed me.”

Dean never finds out what Castiel’s retort would have been because as the angel turned in his saddle a scream cuts the air as Lilith and her demons appeared on the palace steps. The moment she laid hands on the Prophet everything was chaos. When the smoke cleared the demons have the Prophet hostage inside the palace and their spell to bind angels into their vessels has allowed them to make short work of any stragglers inside. Uriel, Balthazar, and Anna cornered Dean in the palace courtyard to see if he had a plan. He didn’t want to tell them that he hadn’t had a ‘plan’ per say the last time he’d saved the day, more an idea really. When Castiel comes up to them, all steel and solemn eyes, Dean flinched but the commander just bowed his head. “I am sorry I didn’t believe you. I trust you to help me make this right.”

It wasn’t a lot, certainly not what Dean was hoping for, but he could work with it. He gave Castiel a nod before addressing the assembled group. “Right, well I’m Dean Winchester and I’ll be helping you storm the palace today. Let’s huddle up and make a plan.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A short review of their situation painted things in a sobering light.

“Well there are six of them in there and they have those binding wards up so if we’re going to rescue the Prophet we need all the help we can get. That in mind, Gabriel, I’d like my brother back now.” The gathered angels looked among themselves in confusion, obviously unsure who he was addressing when the guardian’s annoyed drawl emerged from the vicinity of his collar.

“Alright fine, lay all the cards out on the table but you’re going to miss the quiet.” The familiar snap of fingers and where the steed once stood Sam was now trying to catch his balance on unsteady human legs.

Dean reached out a hand to offer support but he was waved off. “Nah, ‘m fine, just need a minute to get use to having two feet again.” A stiff nod was all the acknowledgement they had time for before Dean turned back to Castiel and the trio to see them gaping at Sam. Uriel cast a narrowed eyed glance between Sam and Dean before reaching over and ever so carefully tugging on the arch of one of Anna’s wings which earned him a hiss and a punch to the jaw.

Castiel stepped forward to direct the group back on track before any further confusions popped up. “We now have five to their six.”

“Five and one third.” Dean automatically corrected. Castiel spared a glance toward Dean’s collar and he could feel Gabriel’s tiny wings flutter in annoyance.

“Five and a guardian angel of a suspicious nature. We may not have our strength inside but one on one any angel is more than a match for any demon.”

Balthazar seemed loathed to bring the topic up but pointed out the serious issue at hand. “These are Lilith’s generals, the best of her army to have survived the holy water and exorcism. Diniel- Dean is only human.”

Dean couldn’t help the rueful smile that curled on his lips. “Sammy and I have tangled with our fair share of demons before, we’re use to being out matched but we make do. Angels aren’t always around to save us you know.” He hadn’t meant it as a slight against them but all four flinched visibly.

“How do you manage?” Anna sounded both genuinely curious and horrified by the idea, but then she’d always seemed more protective, almost mothering, in regard to humans in general.

It was Sam who answered them. “I think its time someone introduced you all to saltwater, the brilliance of human ingenuity, and paint.” The angels settled in to listen to the plan with rapt attention and Dean fought the urge to grin like a fool when, as they comforted each other with the soft brush of wings, Castiel’s, slid over his shoulder as the garrison commander studied the crude sand drawing Sam had sketched out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The demons sauntered into the room, eyes black and laughing among themselves at the sight of the pretty little angel sobbing on the floor. The others had argued against using Anna as the bait because to them, at least in Balthazar’s words, she was old and fearsome. It had taken Dean some effort, as they scaled the outside of the palace walls, to explain the visual appeal to the demons. In the end it came down to trust, and Castiel had stated quite plainly where his lay, so it was Anna pretending to cry in the large open dining hall with one of her wings laying at a seemingly uncomfortable angle on the floor. 

Three of the demons took the bait and followed the sound of sobs in the abandoned halls. It was nerve wracking to watch them creep toward Anna’s position crooning obscenities. Dean wanted to leap out from his hiding spot and slit their throats and if he felt that way there was no telling what it took for Uriel and Balthazar top keep silent. As soon as the demons hit the mark Dean gave the signal and by signal what they ended up with was him leaping out from behind the column and throwing a bucket of blessed saltwater at them.

Anna lunged to her feet in the wake of the spray slashing out with her blade and caught the one in the front by surprise. Dean barely saw the two of them fall back together when Balthazar and Uriel dropped from their hiding places in the rafters. The sounds of the fight echoed badly in the hall and that was exactly what they hoped for. The pounding feet alerted them to the arrival of two more.

Weapons ready the demons whipped around the corner just as Sam flicked out the rug to sprawl across the doorway. Both slammed face first into the barrier of the devil’s trap spitting and snarling. Castiel leapt up from his hiding place behind the table and sprinted for the door. He dodged between the two trapped demons as he shouted an order behind him. “Take care of these two, I’m going after the Prophet!”

It was a good plan, Castiel was the commander the better trained and more familiar with his vessel, but the last time Cas was alone in a battle he’d almost died and Dean had risked everything to save him…

Dean was running before his brain caught up with his feet, diving through the space between the pissed off demons. “Stay here and take care of these guys, Sammy!” He was already rolling to his feet in the hallway when he heard his brother mutter under his breath, “ ‘Cause that worked so well last time.”

He almost missed the grumbled answer from the tiny figure perched on his brother’s shoulder. “You’re telling me, kiddo.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean was going to kill whoever thought it was a wonderful idea to house the Prophet in an ancient palace when a nice simply designed long house would do. Angels had classic tastes, so classic they counted as archaic, and that meant running down twisting blind corridors trying to follow the sound of booted feet on marble.

He rounded another corner to see the door that open to the balcony thrown wide. Lilith was standing in her pristine white dress with her back to him. Castiel had put his body between the demoness and the Prophet, Dean was surprised to find that the single most important human in the world was just some scruffy guy in a bathrobe. He let the thought go as Lilith stalked toward Castiel but her attention was on the man behind him. “I’ll have that information from you even if I have to crack your skull open and pry it out letter by letter, Prophet.”

Castiel’s eyes flashed and he held his sword out in front of him. “You will not touch him while I still stand.”

Lilith’s laugh was a cold sticky thing that inched over Dean’s skin as he cast around for some weapon to use. The failing with charging head long was now apparent and he only had what was on hand. Lilith raised her hand and Dean’s seen what comes next, angels thrown around the battlefield like rag dolls until they break, and he just couldn’t let that stand. “I will enjoy killing you, angel, you robbed me of my victory after all.”

Later, if he survived, Dean will question the wisdom of throwing a shoe at the single most powerful demon on earth because, really? It’s a shoe.

There was a moment of startled silence when it bounced off the side of her head before she turned to stare at him. Dean didn’t fidget under the weight of the hateful gaze and even managed a cocky grin. “Actually, I stole your victory, hell bitch. Come and get me.” She stared for a moment too long and Dean worried he was just not tempting enough so he threw her the finger, it was so nice to not have to play pretend with angel politeness anymore. It was that small pleasure he held onto as she sent him flying back into the wall with a wave of her hand. Without the armor the impact forced the air out of his lungs and made the world slant sideways for a moment.

It rights itself in the white of Lilith’s skirts as she reached down to close her hand over his throat. “You insignificant little bug! I’m going to rip your limbs off. Then again I might leave you with one, I do enjoy watching you spin yourself around.” Her hand was cold and small but solid as steel when she lifts him from the ground in a smooth motion. “Nothing is going to stop me from freeing my father.”

“Arrogance was always your failing, Lilith.” The words are whisper soft from a much appreciated voice and Dean can see through the spots dancing in his vision when the line of holy steel emerges from the demoness’ chest. Her flesh blistered and lightening crackled under her skin before she released her hold on his throat. Dean was already sinking to his knees when Castiel shoved her body to the side and reached out to slow his fall.

“That was incredibly foolish, Dean.”

“Yeah, it’s a bad habit of mine..” His voice rasped out and he knew the colors his skin will turn by morning are going to be special. It was hard to mind when he had this one last opportunity to be close to Castiel and see the concern and affection in his eyes. Castiel opened his mouth to say something when he’s yanked away and flung hard out against the balcony railing.

“Now someone said something about arrogance and failing. Quite true really.” The demon said it almost conversationally as he strolled down the hall. Dean got a quick look at him, his sneer and smug expression, before he gestured with one hand as if he wanted Dean to proceed him and Dean finds himself sliding once again along the marble. At least this time he was heading in a new direction. “Everyone together now.”

Dean was going to hate that lisp for the rest of his life, he just knew it. He came to a stop before he hit the rail and he knows it isn’t an accident but gets to his feet as best he can anyway. It took everything in him to turn and face the demon, pulling the tangle of protective symbols and medallions that hang around his neck out into the open. He didn’t have one he was sure would work on a demon but it was better than a shoe. Then again the way the demon chuckled the boot to the head plan might have been better. “Stay away from him.”

The demon arched a brow in response and sniffed. " Him who? Angel or prophet?”

Dean had almost forgotten about the other man and in his shock glanced to the side to see him huddled in his robe peeking out from behind a column he waved at Dean. “Don’t mind me.”

“Both.”

The demon sighed in response. “I’m afraid I can’t, but tell you what. How about I just pull the prophet’s head off and give it to the angel before I drag you down to the pit. Can’t really kill an angel and I don’t have the time to stay for anything satisfying. I‘m the generous sort.” The demon stepped forward and d a moment to wonder what happened that Castiel hasn’t gotten up yet when a tiny ball of fluffy feathers and rage darted between him and the demon. 

“Keep your maggoty mitts off my charge!”Gabriel gleamed in his golden armor and his sword was practically alight, he looked fierce in a way no six inch tall being had a right to be. 

The demon looked even more amused. “And Heaven’s last line of defense is a human and a cherub?”

Even where he’s standing Dean could see the sly look come on the little angel’s face as he lowers his blade and brings up something else. “I’m the cherub that plays a mean horn.” Gabriel lifted the metal object to his lips and blew. There wasn’t a sound, Dean never heard any noise actually, but there was force to it. Force that rippled out cracking the columns and pushing the demon back slowly. Between the demon and the stone Dean knows which one will give first and that knowledge had him turning to haul Castiel up from the ground and run toward the ledge near the prophet. The lower levels of the roof were not far on that side and they had a better chance of making that than they did of surviving the roof collapse. 

Dean was at the railing when he felt the ground shift under his feet and knew the roof was coming down. He silently apologized as he rolled Castiel off the ledge to the slanted roof below. He’s too busy reaching for the Prophet to watch him hit but the guilt of the action made him ache even as he was forced to take the leap himself after lowering the other human. As soon as he hits the roof he’s rolling down the tiles unable to catch himself. The end of the roof came too soon and Dean’s in free fall cringing at the impending impact with the ground when he was caught in the cradle of arms. He got a good view of the collapsing roof taking out the balcony and the floor below it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things passed quickly after that. Dean didn’t get a chance to get his head around everything that had happened before he and Sam are bundled up in some ridiculous robes and forced, along with the rest of the ragtag band, to the top most steps of the palace. Gabriel had blown himself off the balcony in the flash of light that came with the death of the truly old demons and now he rested in the palm of Sam’s hand. Dean didn’t have the heart to tell the guardian that he looked like a bird that had flown into a window. He also figured from the goofy, proud look on his brother’s face that he would have gotten punched and he had enough bruises already.

The Prophet, Chuck as it turned out, was very grateful about being saved and had declared the Winchesters to be heroes and since everything that came out of the Prophet’s mouth was divine word the assembled angels and humans showed the respect the title deserved. Dean felt his gut roll looking out at the mass of people knelt down in reverence. He wasn’t comfortable with the awe but wisely kept his mouth shut, awe prevented beheadings. From the way Raphael glared Dean knew his safety was tenuous at best. At the end of the day they got a fancy knife, a new pair of boots for Dean, and a pair of medals for their effort.

Oh, and their freedom which was a little more than they started out with so Dean was ready to call it a win.

If he could just pry the trio of angels off. They clung and petted him, he supposed that was a substitute for wing grooming, until he promised that they were welcome to see him at home. They brightened considerably and moved on to shower Sam with affection and Dean was sure he needed to get them out of the situation before Sam lost his temper over Gabriel’s helpful suggestion on his preference for sugar cubes. He turned to head out and give Sam an excuse to follow when he ran right into Castiel again. The angel reached out to steady him with something suspiciously close to a smile on his lips. “It is good to see that not everything has changed.”

Dean flushed at that, apparently he couldn’t blame the wings for his clumsiness after all. ”Old habits die hard.”

“Indeed. You have turned the world on its head, Dean. Now all of Heaven must weigh how it acts in regard to each and every human. It will be centuries before things settle down into any semblance of order.”

Dean really couldn’t think of any reply other than a muffled, “Sorry, man.”

Castiel tilted his head and stepped to the side. He looked almost put out by Dean’s reaction and he kept staring at his shoulders but Dean was once again at a loss. With a sigh he walked past the angel and headed down the steps. Sam joined him toward the bottom and they walked in silence as the crowd parted around them.

In his own thoughts Dean couldn’t help but mull over Castiel’s words. They’d saved the day and changed the world just like he’d always hoped they would. So why didn’t he feel happier about the whole thing? The walk home was spent trying to settle himself against the feeling of leaving something important half finished.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Epilogue~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on! I do good work, you’ve got to admit.” Gabriel isn’t above wheedling if it means not getting knocked down another peg. The First Ancestor stares down at him and Gabriel folds his wings back in response to the hard glare. Finally the spirit lets out a long slow sigh and shakes his head. “I wouldn’t allow this on your own merits alone but you come with some very good references. I hereby reinstate you as one of the family guardians.”

“Yes!” Gabriel throws his hands up in victory before the words catch up to him. “Wait a minute, what references?”

“Several angels have come forward to speak on your behalf, in fact, one is out in the garden if you wish to express your thanks.” The Ancestor gestured over his should to the gardens beyond the shrine before he faded from view. Since he had nothing else to occupy his time Gabriel took the hint and fluttered his way out into the open.

Once he caught sight of who it was he almost wished he hadn’t.

“Hi, bro.”

“You broke my statue.” 

“To be fair it wasn’t the best interpretation I’ve seen. I was doing you a favor.”

Michael smiled as he turned the stone head over in his hands to look at the face. “You have been doing me an awful lot of favors, Gabriel. Some of them even turn out to be genuine.”

“Hey! Its not my fault a lot of my work gets lost in translation.” Gabriel wisely bites his lip when Michael shoots him a pointed look at the comment. The little guardian huffs before letting go of his need to impress. “So why are you here? Thanks for the good word by the way, I like my job.”

Michael nods and lets the statue piece fall from his hands. “You do seem very invested in the Winchesters.” The Archangel walked over to the line of hedges and pulled back a small section to allow for an unobstructed view of the opening beyond. Gabriel followed along to see what his brother was looking at. Dean was sitting under the shade of a large oak and drinking a beer, ever since they’d returned home and the Heavenly Council started to allow humans to advance their technology freely there had been more of a call for Dean’s skills as a mechanic. It would be good to see him taking a break if he didn’t look so forlorn while doing so. “There is much to be done in the coming days. Humanity will be growing and expressing itself rapidly now but they still need gentle guidance to prevent them burning through this precious gift Father left them.”

Gabriel watched as a second shadow was cast over Dean’s resting spot. His charge muttered something quiet only to lurch to his feet when the who cast the shadow replies. Castiel looks as shocked and nervous as Dean does when he holds out the missing helm for the Winchester’s family armor. Watching the two of them talk Gabriel really wishes he could hear them but he gets the gist of the conversation when Castiel tosses the helmet to the side and hauls Dean in by his shirt to kiss him. ”Finally!”

Michael laughs softly and nudges Gabriel with his elbow which sends the guardian fluttering to right himself. “So who does good work? Come on. Say it.”

Gabriel rolls his eyes in response. “Fine, you win. You’re the bestest angel ever.” There might have been more that the angel wanted to say to his brother but Gabriel is wise enough to know the best way to end a story is with a kiss so he bit his tongue and watched with the Archangel while his charge got the happily ever after he deserved.


End file.
